


The Beauty of the Candid

by orphan_account



Category: Carol (2015)
Genre: F/F, Oh good lord I haven't written in a while and am terrified to use this account, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6805975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Carol’s attention was ever drifting, often away from the camera in Therese’s hands just long enough for Therese to capture the moment just as it was."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A flimsy idea that just popped into my head and I wanted out and about. I haven't written in a while because life's a pain sometimes, so this might be crap, but oh well.

It was, for a long time, far easier to take a photo of an object than of a person, simply because an object could never be aware of the lens that sought to capture it. Even when carefully studied and documented, an object would never attempt to make itself look different than it actually was, and thus, so long as the photographer had a sense of integrity about them, the true essence of the thing could be captured. Perfectly candid. Perfectly itself.

Humans, on the other hand, were ever suspicious of a watchful eye, and even more so when that eye was behind a camera. Most wanted to look better than they truly were, or at least become some different version of themselves whenever a lens was pointed in their direction. It was inauthentic, but to photograph a person without their knowledge or permission felt dishonest in a different way, so Therese never made humanity the focus of her work.

Carol was different, though. Carol’s attention was ever drifting, often away from the camera in Therese’s hands just long enough for Therese to capture the moment just as it was. Chastising would always come after with a gentle smirk, but Therese never minded. Nor did she feel as if she was invading Carol’s privacy. Well, after some time that became true, for the first few photos had been taken with wavering, unsure hands. Yet after some time had passed, those doubts of Carol’s trust in her subsided. It was more than trusting one’s subject, Therese learned. That which was photographed must trust the photographer. Only then could reality be acquired.

There was one photo in particular that Therese felt rather proud of. It was kept in their bedroom on Therese’s night stand, for anywhere else would be subject to a guest’s unwanted scrutiny. It had been taken four months after their official reunion — “We won’t count that damn night,” Carol would say with a flick of the wrist regarding the Oak Room. After all, it was not until three days later that they finally managed to talk — on a balcony during a trip to Maine. Carol, hair a mess and makeup forsaken, had gone out with a cup of tea in little more than a robe during one of her wistful moods. As she often did, Carol had left the door open and so Therese managed to catch her in a beautiful, perfectly Carol pose. The cup of tea was brought up to her lips but did not quite touch them and there was a quiet sort of smile reaching her eyes. The scene was far more beautiful in color, but Therese adored the photograph all the same.

It did not matter that she could not show the photo as a part of her portfolio or even her friends. Even if someone were to see it, Therese would be forced to make up a different story behind how it was taken — it would most definitely not be appropriate to tell an innocent inquirer that she had stayed the night before, nor that little sleep had occurred said night. Instead, the photo would remain on the nightstand when they were alone and in its drawer when they were not, but hers always.


	2. Fluff Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Practice writing a scene essentially. I want to try something longer, but don't have a good idea for it yet.

“Which shade of blue do you prefer?”

In the sun’s dying hours, even the haphazard patchwork of blue which splattered the kitchen walls managed to take on a majestic quality. Shadows from the oak outside danced on the walls, making it difficult to properly judge the shades, yet Therese still stood impatiently, hand on hip, waiting for a response. Carol leaned lazily against the corner and allowed her eyes to drift from the samples on the wall to the streak of teal smeared across Therese’s left cheek.

“They all look nice,” Carol said with a brief, dismissive wave. She bit down on her lower lip as Therese let out a dramatic sigh of frustration and began tapping her foot. It was a habit Therese only recently picked up and while Carol did not know from where it had been picked up, she found it rather endearing.

Therese crossed her arms and sighed impatiently. “Be more specific,” she demanded, though it came out as a whine. “I want to get this done before Rindy comes over.”

“As I’m sure you will, my darling,” Carol said simply. She moved to the sink, ignoring Therese’s complaints, and wetted a towel. While charming, the streak on Therese’s cheek had become a distraction. Carol chastised her with a quick “hush” as Therese instinctually shrugged away from the cold water. “I can always help, you know.”

Therese rolled her eyes, but managed to keep herself still while Carol wiped the paint away. “You can help by choosing a color.”

Carol clicked her tongue in mock distaste and turned her attention back to the varying shades of blue that were currently ruining her kitchen’s sense of order. “I like this one.” Carol traced a blue-green square with the tip of her finger.

“Did you even look at all of them?”

Carol flicked the rag still in her hand playfully before responding. “Why do you bother asking for my opinion if you’re not going to listen to me? I was perfectly happy in the living room before you dragged me over here.”

“Because I don’t want you complaining at me for the next god knows how many years that I got the wrong shade.”

Carol smirked and wrapped arm around Therese’s waist, pulling her close. “I think you have impeccable taste.”

Therese laughed. “You’re just saying that because I chose you.” 

No protest was offered, only a shrug of the shoulders as Carol sauntered out of the kitchen and towards the living room once more. “I like that one,” she called over her shoulder.

Therese wrote down the paint’s name on a scrap piece of paper and followed Carol out of the kitchen. Music was coming from the record player and Carol was sitting lazily, arms draped over the edge of the couch as she traced Therese’s movements with bright eyes. Her lips, lacking their typical red, but just as captivating, were pulled upright into a teasing smile.

“What?” Therese asked. She was still leaning against the door frame and hadn’t yet made any move towards Carol.

Carol pouted beautifully and reached her arms towards Therese. “Come here.”

Therese shrugged and instead of giving in to the quiet whine from the couch, stayed defiant in her refusal to move. Her eyes flickered over to the collection drawings on the coffee table, untouched from when Rindy came to visit a week before. Carol had promised that she wouldn’t move them until Rindy was able to finish them and apparently was intend on keeping her promise. Therese’s favorite was a colorful rendition of the three of them at the zoo — Rindy wanted to go whenever she stayed with them and Carol, never able to deny her, would take her.

“We should get that framed once she finishes,” Therese muttered more to herself than anything else.

Carol looked over her shoulder at the mess of papers and pencils. “Which one?”

“The one in the zoo.”

“I’m sure Rindy would love that,” Carol agreed. Her attention was turned back towards Therese, though, an idle smile still on her lips. “Now come here.”

Therese lifted an eyebrow stubbornly and bit back her own smile. “What’s in it for me?”

“What’s in it for you?” Carol scoffed. She threw herself back over the couch, out of Therese’s sight. “Fine, stay there.”

Therese let out a low laugh and crossed the room to kneel by Carol’s legs, kissing an exposed ankle lightly. Carol flicked her foot out and nudged Therese’s shoulder. Therese merely stuck her tongue out in response.

“You’re ridiculous,” Carol sighed.

Therese shrugged again. “And you’re unhelpful.”

“I told you which one I liked, didn’t I?”

“Rindy would have been more helpful.” The little girl would have chosen the first one she saw, although Therese wasn’t entirely sure Carol had done anything different. She kissed Carol’s ankle again and then moved them aside so she could sit on the couch with Carol’s long legs draped over her.

“Maybe if we wait until next week to paint, Rindy will be your little helper,” Carol suggested. “I’m sure you could get it done in half the time.”

“And it wouldn’t look half as good,” Therese teased.

Carol laughed at that. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t. But it would most definitely be ours.”

“Ours,” Therese repeated. The ridiculous butterflies that used to come with that word had started to fade, though a warm smile always found its way onto her lips still. “Am I going to get any help from you doing the rest of the painting?”

“Not if I’m going to be teased the whole time.”

“Well, then, I suppose I’ll do it on my own,” Therese smirked.

A comfortable silence overcame the room as the sun’s last rays disappeared. A song Therese had never heard before was playing on the record player, some jazz tune she wouldn’t have expected Carol to enjoy, but the way the leg on her lap was swaying, Therese was clearly proven wrong. Therese leaned her head back on the couch and closed her eyes.

“Therese?” Carol said suddenly. Therese opened an eye and grunted her acknowledgement. “Did you go shopping today?”

“No, why?”

“I don’t think we have anything to eat, do we?”

Therese laugh was quickly followed by an unhappy groan. “That means I have to go now, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll go if you paint the damn kitchen without complaining.”

Therese bit the inside of her cheek, but the cushions were soft underneath her and the strain in her shoulder was finally starting to relax. “Fine.”

Carol swung her legs from off There’s lap and stretched gracefully, kissing the top of her head and moving towards the foyer. “Do you have any requests?”

“No, just hurry back,” Therese called, eyes still closed.

By the time Carol returned, she was asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope that was alright! 
> 
> (Also, awkward admission: If you read my stuff before and are like -- hey!! You abandoned Tumblr! Yes, I did for a while and I feel rather bad because I gave 0 warning, which was not cool. I've just recently created another one but still feel terrible so might hide in a dark corner and stay there).


End file.
